Husband Who Is Always Humiliated

Part 14's. Don't Forget Bismillah

The Part 14

Ustaz Arief, middle-aged man led kobong pesantren whose santry is not too much. There are only about 15 male students living there, while female students are only for teaching places, without providing lodging that most children are in their teens. While the rest were about five people like me, only coming in moments after five prayers of time.

Actually there is a sense of shame, seeing from my age which is considered the most mature compared to other students. But because of the desire to be able to send prayers to Mamah, as well as want to know about religion, I brushed off all the shame. Ustaz Arief said, "As long as we breathe, no matter how old we are, we must continue to learn in all things" and it makes me more eager to continue to explore religion.

3 Weeks I've been studying at Ustaz Arief, and really started from scratch. From the beginning of the Iqra, prayers, prayer readings, ordinances of prayer, ablution. I was really like a newly introduced early childhood about his beliefs. However, I actually feel calm and peace in this place, as well as because of the cool climate.

Risma Wulandari, the girl's name. All I know from Ustaz Arief. The hijab girl who helped me showed Kobong the boarding school belonging to Ustaz Arief. Every day I see him here, but there is never another conversation between the two of us. Act like strangers, just just looking at each other from a distance, or stealing glances, but I don't know, the more the day goes on the more I want to always see it even if only from a distance.

The location of Kobong is a bit in the depth, making me have to go back and forth from the motel where I stayed to the place of Ustaz Arief, and for a long time so it feels tiring. I plan to find a house that is not far from Kobong, by selling a car that for the last three weeks is only parked in the parking lot of the motel. And the plan to find a place to live in this village was discussed with him, when we were talking after teaching this morning. There is also something more serious that I want to ask him later.

"Ustaz, maybe ustaz know, in this village residents who want to sell land or houses?" ask him, who was a little surprised for a moment I asked something outside the topic of our conversation that was discussing about the five-time prayer procedures.

"Anybody really wants to find a house, for whom, Wan?"

"Make me ustaz, feel tired too if you have to go back and forth many times," I replied.

"It just so happens, Wan. I have a home and land inherited from my parents, which I want to sell to repair and add kobong. Pity to see santri sleep jostling," explained Ustaz Arief.

"Whose house is Ustaz?"

"Ituloh Wan, that empty house in front of the plantation border. Indeed, the condition of his house needs a little improvement."

"What land area, Ustaz?"

"50 square meters" replied Ustaz Arief.

"How much do you want to sell?"

"25 million, Wan."

"25 million, Taz?" I was a little surprised by the cheap price, in my opinion.

"Weak, Wan? The money is for kobong Wan. Indeed, the price of land in this village is still relatively cheap, because it is a little inland and far from everywhere" he explained. "But it is my intention, if the land is sold want to add Kobong while renovating the musholla."

"God willing, I will pay 40 million" I said, looking shocked at the face of Ustaz Arief.

"This is real, Wan?" he asked, as if in doubt.

I'm nodding.

"The 15 million, I want to give my alms to help the construction of kobong, also to be given in the name of the late Mamah," said I lirih, there is pain in the heart if you call or remember the late house.

"Subhanallah" said Ustaz Arief. "Later about the letters of sale let me take care of it, and we will arrange to pray specifically for the late," he continued.

"Thank you, Ustaz," I replied, taking the warm tea that Ustaz Arief's wife had provided.

"By the way, you have a lot of money too, Wan?" ask Ustaz Arief, joking.

"Little lumpulin, Ustaz, while working outside yesterday," I replied, hiding my identity.

"Taz, will I ask you again?"

"May Wan, ask me what, then,?"

"But ustaz don't bully me, yeah," I joked. Ustaz Arief laughed, it felt good discussing with him. If in the past I only talked about business and profit, with him I got a lot of enlightenment about faith.

"What do you want to ask, Wan? Seriously it seems," she replied in a seductive tone. I paused for a moment, hesitating a little to talk about what the last few days had been troubling me, but I finally decided to let it go.

"If to apply for a girl in this village how many do you usually, Taz?" ask me slowly, a little shy.

"Wow, your questions are always this surprising, "he replied jokingly, then laughed in a slightly toned tone.

"Here anyway, the hinterland. Applying for girls is still cheap, Wan. 10 Million dollars were already happy," explained Ustaz Arief.

"If Risma how, Ustaz?" askaku. My face was hot, embarrassed and a little misbehaved.

"You seriously want to be with Risma?" I was silent for a moment, then nodded in affirmation.

"Reason?" ask again.

"Don't know, Ustaz," I replied

"Can't you know?" tanyanya, probing.

"Come Ustaz. Like there's a belief in my heart, if my soul mate is that girl."

Ustaz Arief took a deep breath, and it was quite astonishing, as if there was something different about the girl named Risma.

"Why, Ustaz?" I asked, curious about the behavior of Ustaz Arief.

"There have been many Wan, young people who want to propose to him, but it seems the behavior of his parents, especially his father seemed burdensome to the parties who want to apply" explained Ustaz Arief.

"What's it like, Ustaz?"

"That's, Ustaz?" my heart started to feel bad, and it turned out to be true.

"Yes, Umi!" call Ustaz Arief to his wife, who immediately rushed to him.

"What's the matter, Bi," replied Ustaz Arief's wife, who is usually called his santri-santri, Umi Hasanah.

"Risma's in princess Kobong?"

"There, Bi, just came" replied Umi Hasanah.

"Call here, Mi. Abi wants to talk." Umi Hasanah then went back inside, it seemed like she was going to call Risma through the back door.

"Ustaz, when called," I said slowly, making me feel more groggy and wrong. Ustaz smiled.

"Any goodwill, must be hastened, Wan," he replied, and I fell silent. Cold sweat began to spread throughout the body, my body was trembling, and this was strange in my opinion.

Not long after, Umi Hasanah came with Risma, who looked surprised to see me in the room with ustaz Arief, and the surprise was really visible from her face.

The girl then sat on the pandan mat just like us, accompanied by Umi Hasanah beside her, and I trembled even more. It felt, Risma was the same as that, visible from her palm slightly shaking.

"W-What's up, Ustaz?" he asked slowly, turning for a moment towards Ustaz Arief, then looked down again. But from the tail of his eyes it is seen if he also had time to glance at me.

"Look Neng Risma .. that goodwill must be hastened. Well ... This Riswan has good intentions to propose to you. Nengnya himself how, accept no?" ustaz Arief asked directly, and the girl who was now wearing a green plain hijab looked gawky, like she could not believe what she heard, and I trembled waiting for her answer.

"I-want to propose to me, Ustaz?" he wanted to be more confident in what he had just heard.

"Yes, propose to Neng Risma. His own neng how, accept no proposal, Riswan?"

Risma looked down silently, then looked at me who was sitting almost opposite her.

"Abang sure you want to propose, Risma?" ask him directly to me. My chest is still pounding. Looking back her eyes deep, and I had already found the answer, that this was indeed the girl I wanted.

"God willing, brother sure, Neng," I said firmly, still looking into his eyes, and there was a crystal clear there. Risma lowered her head, speaking softly like a complaint.

"The father will definitely make it difficult" he said softly, clear fur had already crossed his cheek, touching the tip of the chin.

"Don't give up first, Neng Risma, let Riswan try first" said Ustaz Arief, advising.

"The father will certainly be burdensome with many demands," he said, had begun to sob.

"It's as if you don't like me getting married, and it's happened a few times. Every time someone wants to propose to me, you always ask for very burdensome demands," he lamented, wiping his tears.

"Maybe it's God's way, so that Neng Risma gets the right match," explained Ustaz Arief. Risma was speechless, staring at ustaz Arief.

"What do you mean, Yes, Ustaz?"

"I mean, maybe yesterday's failure was God's way, so that Neng Risma waited for a proposal from Riswan alone." Looking red with her face, her crying stopped, wiping her tears. He said softly from his lips, without sound, but read from the motion of his lips.

"Aammin of Allah ...."

This girl named Risma Wulandari also wanted me. He also hoped that the advice given by Ustaz Arief was probably God's way of waiting for him to propose from me.

"With Ustaz Arief, immediately my brother will meet Father and Mother. May Allah make it easier" I am sure, really want to propose to him.

"Aamiin, O God." This time his voice was clear, between the words of Aamiin Ustaz Arief and Umi Hasanah.

÷÷÷

A week after our conversation the four of us, I was now at Ustaz Arief's house. Ask him to help me to meet "Juragan Hashim" Father of Risma. A land broker who is more often called a lawyer by local residents.

Ever since the proposal I told you a week ago. My relationship with Risma is getting closer. Every time we finished teaching, either in the morning or after Isya, we took the time to talk to each other. I am more often a listener. I lied to him, claiming to be an orphan, to cover up my identity and my past.

Sometimes, when I think about Mamah's death, I feel better not having Papah. After all, he has betrayed the loyalty and love of Mamah for years. And maybe not with the Empress alone, and I'm sure about that. He made use of all the facilities and treasures he had, to satisfy his lust.

The land and the house owned by Ustaz Arief has been paid off, the proceeds from the sale of the car three days ago, and the next three days are for the improvement of the condition of the house, he said, with the help of ustaz and some of his students. Last night the house began to occupy me.

I came to propose to Risma with confidence. For residence, although not large, but quite decent to live in. Risma was also from our daily conversation, hoping that my proposal would be accepted and not complicated by her father, Juragan Hashim.

"Come on, Wan, we're leaving." The pat on the shoulder roused me from the reverie. Ustaz Arief was dressed neatly, with a peci and white Koko clothes, his wife Umi Hasanah was also accompanying.

"Before, I would like to thank Ustaz and Ummi, who were willing to help and accompany me, for meeting Risma's parents" I said, slightly bowing my head, while cupping both palms in front of the chest.

"Name-sama, Wan. I also want to thank you, because you also helped build the new Kobong and renovate the mushalla," he said, patting my shoulder.

"Yuk, we go straight to Neng Risma's house," Ustaz Arief invited me, while stepping outside the house.

"Okay, Ustaz," I replied, following behind him.

"Don't forget to read bismillah, Wan?"

"Hirahmmannirrahim ...." Make my whole business easy, God.